


the breath that carried me

by featherpluckn



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Adult Language, F/M, Kinda Filthy with Feels, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherpluckn/pseuds/featherpluckn
Summary: Roman finds out what Gerri really thinks about their “relationship”.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 93





	the breath that carried me

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something for a mini fic challenge over on tumblr. The prompt was “things you said with no space between us”. Thanks for the ask margotgrissom ;)

Roman is standing in the corner of Gerri’s living room, facing the wall like a good little fuck up, jacking himself for all he’s worth, when he hears a sound that turns his entire world upside down. 

A zipper. 

Specifically, Gerri’s zipper...on her skirt...that she is wearing.

That she is now apparently taking off?

He didn’t even realize his hand had stopped at the revelation until Gerri gloriously spits out from behind him, “Jesus Christ, Roman. Do you need step-by- step instructions? Grab that number two pencil you call a dick and get the fuck on with it!” 

And, well, that jump starts him real quick. 

He doesn’t even really get going again before she speaks again, voice higher and shakier than he’s ever heard her. 

“You can’t even follow the simplest of instructions: eyes front, c-cock out.”

Roman hears leather creak and Gerri suck in a lungful of air. 

Fuck it. He’s never been known for his self control or following rules. He turns his head slightly towards the overstuffed chair in the adjacent corner. 

At this angle, all he can really make out is her face. Her eyes are closed and her glasses are gone. He can tell she is breathing heavily through her nose, mouth pressed into a thin line trying to keep any noise from escaping. 

So, he turns his head a little further and he can see one of her hands gripping at the cushion underneath her, and the other hand down the front of her underwear. Her fingers are moving quickly.

“ _Shit!_ ”

Roman’s not even sure who that strangled whisper came from but his rhythm stutters and quickens. He gets a few more strokes in before he comes all over Gerri’s wall. 

He’s still watching her when he stuffs himself back in his briefs. 

He’s still watching her when she opens her eyes and looks right at him.

Roman stops breathing for a few seconds, because let’s face it, she calls the shots in their arrangement and she could put an end to this wet dream come to life at any second. 

He can’t read her expression but her hand hasn’t stopped. 

He takes that as a good sign, and when he turns around fully, she licks her lips and swallows hard. And because he’s looking, he can tell the moment she stops working her clit and dips her fingers into herself. 

“Holy shit, Ger.”

She lifts a pale, challenging eyebrow before narrowing her eyes 

“Either clean up my wall or make yourself useful, chicken shit.”

God fucking bless her, even now, she’s giving him an out. He could wipe up his mess and walk out her door right this minute and nothing would change between them. 

She gets it. 

Someone knowing him that well would be downright terrifying, if it wasn’t such a damn good feeling. 

Gerri’s eyes are closed again, her head pushing back into the chair cushion. Her hips are meeting her hand in earnest now. She’s uses her free hand to unbutton her blouse far enough to jam it into her bra. When she pinches her nipple, she makes a quiet little whine in the back of her throat somewhere. 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“Shit or get off the pot, slime puppy.”

Before Roman realizes what he’s doing, he’s crossing the distance between them. 

Gerri looks up when he gets in front of the chair. If she’s surprised he made his way over to her, she doesn’t show it. 

He drops to his knees harder than he means to but he doesn’t have time to think about the bruises that will be there tomorrow. 

His knees have barely hit the floor before she twists her hand into the front of his shirt. She brings their foreheads together and both of them still have their eyes open, and they’re breathing the same air heavily, and the only thing happening in the whole fucking universe right now is happening in this god damn chair. 

Because they don’t _do_ this. They give each other space. But at the moment, Roman can’t remember why they do. 

Gerri pushes him back a little just so she can look in his eyes. A thousand things flash across her face in that moment. He catches her brow furrow in uncertainty before she drops her head to his shoulder. 

She breathes in and out deeply before saying, “Please touch me, Rome.”

Nothing in this moment could stop him from touching her. A nuclear warhead could fly up The Statue of Liberty’s skirt or a flock of rabid pigeons could swoop through the window and peck out his eyes or his whole fucking family could be laughing at him from the doorway. 

He would still touch her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Roman grips her thigh with one hand and uses his other to pull hers from her underwear. It comes up, warm and sticky, at the back of his neck and grips for dear life when he cups her through the thin fabric. 

Gerri moans into his shoulder and it runs straight fucking through him. She’s warm and damp and feels fucking alive and he can’t believe he’s already half hard again. His amazement must last a little too long because that moan turns into a little growl.

“No teasing, you little shit. I swear to God! I’ll kick you out and finish mys-”

He doesn’t give her a chance to finish that sentence. Before she can change her mind, he pulls her underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into her. 

“Mmmm…. _fuck_!”

Her breath is hot against his shoulder and she’s moving her hips almost immediately to meet his hand. 

She’s so damn responsive and she’s whining in the back of her throat again. He loves that sound already. He’s only heard it twice and it is now his life’s mission to hear it as much as possible from here on out. 

Her face turns into his neck and she’s panting hard when she grits out, “Ever heard of a clit, Rome?”

Roman can’t help the chuckle that slips out and she nips at the thin skin under his chin for it, but he does as he’s told. He uses his thumb on her clit while his fingers curve forward inside of her. 

“I’m close. Don’t stop.”

Not a fucking chance. 

He can feel her walls tightening around his fingers and she doesn’t last much longer after he rises up a little and uses his hips to help his hand. He pushes into her once, twice, three more times and she comes with a hoarse shout biting down on his shoulder. 

There’s definitely gonna be a mark but it hurts so fucking good. 

They aren’t in anything remotely close to a comfortable position though, and he’s starting to feel it. He pulls out of her and wipes his hand on his pants, sitting back on his heels. 

She’s a glorious, hot mess. Her hair is falling out of the respectable school marm twist she usually keeps it in, half her breast is hanging out of her shirt, and she’s got that sexy fucking smirk on her lips. 

But her eyes are soft. 

And it’s a little too much, but it’s not enough yet either. 

“Can you even see me right now without those glasses, Mr. Magoo?”

“Fuck you.”

They are both laughing when she shoves him onto his ass with a foot to the chest.


End file.
